


Advent: Scarf

by FyrMaiden



Series: Klaine Advent 2014 [16]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Meet-Cute, Mild Embarrassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:59:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FyrMaiden/pseuds/FyrMaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Klaine Advent 2014 Prompt: Scarf</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advent: Scarf

Blaine has spent a lot of mornings just staring at the back of Kurt’s head as they wait in line for coffee. He only knows his name because of the few times he has arrived early enough to be close enough behind him to hear him tell the barista, his voice strong and warm and a little high around the single syllable. “Kurt.” Like The Sound of Music. The first time he’d heard it, Blaine had turned it over in his head as he walked the two blocks to work, had sat at his desk and whispered it aloud before telling himself he was utterly ridiculous and forcing himself to stop. Irrespective, he still spends ten minutes of his mornings happily staring at the back (or, sometimes, if he’s lucky, the side) of Kurt’s head.

Blaine has invented and elaborate and glamourous life for Kurt, one where he is happy and loved and successful. Blaine judges, based on the array of jackets and stovepipe jeans, that Kurt must work in fashion. None of his clothes are cheap, ever. Even the ones that Blaine recognises as high street fashion from his nocturnal perusal of fashion blogs are, as these things go, expensive. Blaine thinks perhaps he’s a stylist, or a budding designer. Either way, he knows how to combine fabrics and prints to make an impression. Blaine thinks, most mornings, as he chooses between types of porridge, that he’s probably expensive as well.

Some mornings he arrives with a petite brunette with a beautiful smile, who touches him as if she’s known him forever and seen him naked and crying. The girlfriend, he imagines. All the pretty ones are straight. She’s beautiful though, if occasionally a little exuberant for the time of day. She talks fast, and is very specific with her drink order, and Kurt always has an indulgent smile for her. It’s nice, Blaine thinks. People in love always give him a warm glow. He watches as Kurt tips his change into the jar on the counter, and decides that Kurt is obviously generous as well.

Blaine knows he’s falling in love with an avatar, but since the devolution of his last relationship he’s been living on his own. Crushing on the boy from the coffee shop doesn’t feel like it’s doing anyone any harm.

He’s been completing his morning ritual of watching Kurt order his grande non-fat mocha for almost five months before either of them speaks to one another. Blaine arrives a little early, and Kurt a little late. It’s not the first time, but it definitely throws Blaine a little. He waits at the collection end of the counter, plays with his phone, and watches Kurt from the corner of his eye, sees Kurt watching him as well. He blushes and turns away, unwinds his scarf as his blood heats his skin and sweat prickles in his hairline. His coffee is put in front of him, and he takes it gratefully, stops at the counter to add a little cinnamon to his cup. He doesn’t feel his scarf drop, too flustered entirely to even really see what he’s doing. He clips his lid back on, burns his tongue on his first sip, and starts to leave.

He’s halfway to the door when he hears a voice say his name, familiar and clear and entirely unexpected. He stops and doesn’t turn, and a heartbeat happens before he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Blaine?” Kurt’s voice says, and Blaine turns slowly. Kurt holds his scarf in his outstretched hand. “You dropped this,” he continues, and Blaine takes it cautiously, as if perhaps the scarf may bite him.

“Um,” he says. “Thank you?”

Kurt drops his now empty hand, smooths it across his (perfect, Blaine notes) thighs. “Wow,” Kurt says. “This is incredibly awkward.”

Blaine smiles, uses his free hand to wind his scarf back around his neck. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Thank you for returning my scarf.”

Kurt snorts a laugh and Blaine blinks at him, owlish and uncertain. “No,” Kurt says. “That’s not what’s - I’ve been trying to find an excuse to speak to you for weeks, and I just - this seemed perfect, and now I’m stood here absolutely mute and I just wanted to say that I think you’re cute, too.”

Blaine can feel the blush in his hairline now, and he turns his face away. Kurt touches his arm gently. “Blaine - I’m sorry. I asked the barista your name. I’m Kurt.”

When Blaine meets Kurt’s eyes, they are a cloudy and uncertain blue. Blaine feels his smile reassert itself. “Kurt,” he says, and it feels even better in his mouth that he’s used to. “Can I buy you a cookie?”

The width and honesty of Kurt’s smile is all the encouragement he needs.


End file.
